


picture perfect memories

by Fandom_Trash224



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Damian and Tim Are Brothers, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Photographs, a bit angsty in some bits, fuck you dc, i made myself emotional writing this whoops, ive never written these two at-length and based on main canon before so please be gentle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25054477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom_Trash224/pseuds/Fandom_Trash224
Summary: “I… require assistance with something. I believe you are best-suited for it.”Tim raises an eyebrow, but motions for the younger boy to enter his room. As Damian does, he slowly closes the door behind him, and Tim notices a small piece of what Tim assumes to be paper in Damian’s hand. Then, he realizes it’s not just a piece of paper: it’s aphoto.Damian approaches Tim, holding out the photo at arm’s length once he’s close enough to do so, saying, “I would like you to explain this photo to me.”Tim glances down at it, and to both his surprise and mild horror, herecognizesthe photo.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Comments: 33
Kudos: 718
Collections: Tim Drake and Red Robin Stories





	picture perfect memories

**Author's Note:**

> so, i was up at like midnight thinkin' abt Bruce and his various kids, and I came to a realization abt Things, and i wanted to write abt Damian and Tim bonding so.... this fic happened! I hope u enjoy!

“Timothy.”

Tim knows it’s meant as a greeting, something like a verbal nod or wave. Something meant mostly for use in passing, but based on the fact that Damian is currently standing in the doorway to his room, Tim figures he’s likely trying to start an actual conversation.

“Damian,” Tim greets in return. Then, after taking a moment to examine Damian’s… posture— uncomfortable, maybe even…  _ unsure _ — he asks, “What is it?”

“I… require assistance with something. I believe you are best-suited for it.”

Tim raises an eyebrow, but motions for the younger boy to enter his room. As Damian does, he slowly closes the door behind him, and Tim notices a small piece of what Tim assumes to be paper in Damian’s hand. Then, he realizes it’s not just a piece of paper: it’s a  _ photo _ .

Damian approaches Tim, holding out the photo at arm’s length once he’s close enough to do so, saying, “I would like you to explain this photo to me.”

Tim glances down at it, and to both his surprise and mild horror, he  _ recognizes _ the photo.

It has two figures, slightly blurred and half-hidden by frankly  _ atrocious _ lighting, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who they are: Batman and Robin. Well,  _ sort of _ .

Batman has his cowl down, revealing himself to be none other than Bruce Wayne, and even though Robin still has his domino mask on, Tim knows that the Robin in the photo is a younger Dick Grayson, right at the tail-end of his time as the Boy Wonder. 

Dick is smiling, wide and slightly open-mouthed, and he has his hands held out to either side, like he just told a bad joke and started going “ayyyy”. Bruce isn’t smiling, but unlike most other times, it isn’t because he’s scowling or keeping his face neutral: it’s because he’s got his head thrown back in what seems to be almost  _ wild _ laughter. He’s got both hands on his stomach, and Tim can almost  _ hear _ the full-bellied laugh echoing through the dark alleyway the photo was taken in.

It’s from back when Tim had first started following Batman and Robin around, probably his third or so outing, and even though it’s not one of the  _ better _ pictures he’s taken, it holds a special place in his heart. The night he heard The Batman laugh.

“Where’d you find this?” Tim asks quietly, taking the photo gently before firmly grasping the edges of it, as if it could be stolen by some nonexistent wind. “I thought I lost this years ago, after I first mov-- Nevermind. How’d you get your hands on it?”

“I found it while searching through the attic.”

“Why were you searching through the attic?”

Damian doesn’t answer for several moments, looking away with a mildly flustered expression. Then, he quietly grits out, “I was… looking for something. For a school project.”

“Oh,” Tim says, not buying it for a moment but not willing to push it further. He looks back down at the picture. “What do you need me to explain about it?”

“Who took the photo? What happened to cause my father to react that way? Why was his cowl down, despite his strict rules about concealing our identities?” Damian pauses, then, quietly, “What was his laughter like?”

Tim blinks at Damian’s bluntness, but doesn’t push it much further. Instead, he starts answering the questions. “I took the picture. I used to follow Batman and Robin around the city and take pictures of them when I could. I don’t exactly remember  _ why _ Bruce was laughing so hard, but I do know I almost got caught because Dick’s joke made me snicker. I think his cowl was down because it was hot that night, so I wouldn’t be surprised if Bruce was getting uncomfortable under it. As for the laughter…”

Tim pauses, closing his eyes for a moment as he combs his brain for the laughter from that night. He hadn’t heard it again afterwards, so, much like the picture in his hands, the memory is unfocused, not  _ quite _ up to snuff with some others, but it’s enough for Tim to remember how it  _ felt _ .

“It was like thunder, but the nice kind,” Tim begins slowly, “When it’s close enough to hear, but far away enough to feel safe. It was deep, and it rolled right out of him with ease, as if it were a normal thing for him. It was…  _ nice _ .”

When Tim opens his eyes, Damian’s are closed, as if he’s trying to imagine the sound himself. That gives Tim pause. When was the last time Bruce had laughed like that in  _ general _ ? Tim had only heard it the once, but surely Dick had heard it more. Even  _ Jason _ had to have heard it. 

The last time Bruce had laughed like that… it would’ve  _ had _ to have been before Jason died.

“I see… thank you, Timothy,” Damian says, opening his eyes with a somber expression. “I will leave you to your work, now--”

“Hang on,” Tim says quickly, not even sure what possessed him to do so. “I, uh, I’ve got more. Photos, I mean. From back in the day. Most of them are a lot better than this, although I don’t have any more with Bruce laughing like this. You, uh… You wanna look through them with me?”

Damian raises an eyebrow at the older boy, but doesn’t sneer or make any move to leave, so Tim stands and makes his way over to his closet, stretching up to carefully pull down an unlabelled cardboard box. He makes his way over to his bed, placing the box on the neatly made bedspread (Alfred really is a stickler for that sort of thing) before opening it. Inside, there’s a couple photo albums, as well as a couple small shoe boxes stacked on top of each other. Damian makes his way over, peering down at the contents before casting a questioning glance to Tim.

“I ran out of rooms in the albums,” Tim explains, pulling one of the books out. “I kept forgetting to grab a new one, so I just ended up putting the loose ones in the shoeboxes.”

“Hm… Understandable,” Damian says, taking the album from Tim as he’s offered it. “How long were you doing this for? Did your parents not wonder where you were?”

Tim offers Damian a rueful smile. “I did from the  _ very _ end of Dick’s time up until I became Robin. If my parents ever noticed, they never said anything about it, though they never were really the best at communication. Of course, unless it was to tell me they’d be home later than expected.”

“Oh,” Damian says quietly, and Tim can’t blame him. What was Damian  _ supposed _ to say to that? Stupid Tim. “Do you… still do photography?”

Tim watches as Damian opens the album slowly, his green eyes raking over the photos almost reverently, as if Tim had just handed him a book with the secrets of the universe itself within it. 

“Haven’t really found the time, but I’d like to get back into it. Why?”

“These photos… they’re incredible,” Damian not-so-subtly changes the subject, but Tim doesn’t say anything about it. “The fact you took these while remaining hidden to all… I believe there are some members from my grandfather’s League that would do well to take lessons from you.”

“I-- Thanks.”

They sit there on the bed for what feels like hours, going through the albums until they run out of pages, switching to the shoeboxes and moving to the floor to allow them to spread out the pictures as they go through them. Tim tells stories and gives context for each of them. Damian actually seems to  _ listen _ , practically  _ enthralled _ by the stories. By the time they fish out the last one, a photo of Bruce dragging his broken, bleeding body back to the Batmobile all by his lonesome, Tim’s almost completely forgotten who he’s talking to, as well as their somewhat…  _ strained _ relationship. 

However, as Tim finishes the story of what happened during that fight, the final night he had gone out to watch the Bat before becoming his new Robin, he remembers, and he looks at Damian critically. Damian’s eyes are glued to the photos on the floor, his face unreadable in a way that almost makes him seem vulnerable in a way that actually makes him  _ look _ his age. 

They are sitting across from each other, criss-cross applesauce, with a sea of memories between them, and Tim has never felt closer to the boy, his  _ little brother _ , than in this moment. Damian doesn’t even glance up at Tim, but he sighs quietly, picking up a photo of Jason from his time as Robin riding on top of Batman’s shoulders. There’s a mildly amused smirk on Bruce’s face.

“I find it… strange,” Damian begins softly, “That m-- our father was once a different kind of man. One who allowed himself to smile and laugh at the jokes made by his children. Who was tough, and perhaps distant or smothering, but still…  _ different _ . Lighter. Both Todd and Richard knew this man, knows what they have lost, but I-- I do not think I can recall a single time I have heard him laugh the way he did in that photo.”

Tim stays silent for a moment, staring down at the memories on the floor. Then he confesses, “I haven’t heard it since that night.”

“Is it odd to miss something you never even knew?” Damian asks, and Tim is once more reminded that Damian is…  _ young _ . Younger than he is. Younger than all of them.

“No,” Tim’s soft answer is given after only a moment’s hesitation. “Plenty of people feel like that. I know I do.”

Damian looks up at Tim, his eyes searching for  _ something _ in Tim’s face, but then he looks back down at the photo in his hand as he places it back onto the ground. Tim isn’t sure if that’s a good or bad reaction, but doesn’t have it in him to pursue it. This is one of the nicest times he’s ever spent with the youngest member of their family… He’d rather not ruin it.

“Thank you,” Damian says quietly, and Tim nearly pinches himself right then to make sure he hasn’t just dreamt all this up. “For showing me this. I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” the words are almost numb in his mouth, the shock of Damian’s appreciation hitting him harder than it really ought to. “Thank you for staying, I guess. I… don’t get to show these to a lot of people. I think the last time I showed anyone any of these photos was when I tried to get Dick back into being Robin.”

“Do you still have your camera?”

“Yeah, I think so. Hold on,” Tim stands up, carefully stepping around the photos back into his closet, fishing out his old camera. He brings it over to his brother, who takes it with such care that Tim almost feels tears prick at his eyes. 

“It’s film,” Damian remarks as he inspects it. “Did you develop these photos yourself?”

“Yeah, had a makeshift darkroom and everything. Why?”

Damian doesn’t answer for a moment, biting his bottom lip with uncertainty. Tim slowly kneels next to Damian before actually sitting, once more criss-cross applesauce, but this time with nothing but a small space of air and floor between them. 

“I would like to go to the botanical gardens this weekend,” Damian finally says, “I was hoping that one of the others would take me, but everybody has been--”

“Busy, yeah. You want me to bring my camera?”

Damian nods. “I also plan to bring my sketchbook. Father says I need more calm in my life, and I figure that… perhaps this would be a good start.”

Tim can’t help but nod in agreement. Bruce had said something similar to Tim recently, though Tim had brushed it off in favor of working on more cold cases. Tim is almost glad to see at least one of them taking it to heart. 

“Alright. How about Saturday then? We’ll go in early and everything so we can beat the crowds.”

“This is acceptable,” Damian says, actually  _ smiling _ slightly. Tim can’t help but smile, too.

“Great. Now, let’s clean this mess up, or else Alfred might have both our hides.”

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr!
> 
> dc: gothamhell.tumblr.com  
> main: fandom-trash224.tumblr.com


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